For Once
by Lou-deadfroggy
Summary: After Anderbad something was sparked between Penelope and Virgil, or it would have had Scott not been in their way until he can allow himself, just for once, to be someone other than the oldest Tracy brother and Field Commander.
1. Chapter 1

**For Once**

**Chapter One**

She would say it started in the tunnel. That it was the soft hand on her cheek keeping her calm as the bullet train screamed over their heads. Penelope could trace her problem back to that single moment in Anderbad, nice and neat as if it was a painting she could find the Provenance for without too much trouble. Of course saving people was what they did and she didn't delude herself into thinking that she was special, but Virgil could have just shot the ladder down and left it at that. Maybe because he knew her he had felt compelled to hold onto her and make sure she was safe.

Whatever his reasons, Anderbad was where it started. After that she began to notice a thousand tiny things she had passed over before. How Virgil was the first to stand if there weren't enough seats, giving his to any brother or other standee without a moment's notice. How he would always ask her how she was, even if he was pressed for time. They were all kind, they were all polite gentleman, Jeff has taught them well, yet each time she saw them Virgil stood out as the one who went out of his way to care. He had offered to walk her around the Louvre, making sure she wasn't still in shock once they got back from Anderbad. It was an impressive building and a beautiful collection but only when walking with him did she realise that even her knowledge of fine arts and culture left her completely unaware of the real treasures around her.

"If you look closely, you'll see the people he painted out," Virgil was saying quietly, leaning as close to the glass as he dared. "The strokes-" He stopped and flushed a warm red, which she immediately found adorable. "Sorry, stop me if I'm rambling."

"Not at all, it is quite fascinating." She graced him with a smile and waited to see if that would make him blush harder. Instead it simply began a tirade of information about oil paintings, delivered at such a pace that she could follow easily and as Virgil moved them gently on to the next one she could pick out what he meant. Penelope decided that he was simply enthusiastic and grateful for an audience that wasn't one of his brothers simply putting up with him, for someone to actually be listening.

Her feet ached in her heels after they finished the wing and although she did her best to wince discreetly he saw.

"Coffee? Or, or tea?" She smiled at his hasty correction.

"That would be wonderful." The tea room was mercifully near to the exhibition they had been wandering around and she couldn't help but be relieved when the weight was finally off her feet. She had chosen a more uncomfortable pair of heels to go with one of her nicer dresses, they looked fabulous but she avoided wearing them for too long. It was because she was in Paris and she ought to look her best, rather than the man sitting opposite her that she had put them on, she repeated.

"I wonder how long it'd take to see every piece in here," Virgil murmured, more to himself, she suspected than to her.

"At the speed you pass them? Well into the next millennia." He shot her a grin she was sure Gordon got a lot, coupled with a reflex eye roll at the tease. In the relatively formal museum cafe he was relaxed, in his element, his natural habitat and the International Rescue pilot was nowhere to be seen. Penelope had never had much opportunity to see any of the boys on their own without the family business overshadowing things or others around. Except for Scott, whom she had known so well for so long, catching another brother off guard was almost a surprise. They had learnt it from Jeff of course, to always be ready and on duty even at home.

"I'm sorry. I was trying to go at what Gordon calls snail pace, which is apparently twice as fast as Virgil pace." She laughed, patting his hand ever so briefly to reassure him.

"It's a perfect speed." He would spend hours in front of one single painting, she knew and seeing his delight in them almost made her want to let him but her attention span for landscapes was significantly less and they reached a happy medium.

"Would you like to do another wing of have you had, your fill of art for the day?" It was endearingly sweet how he tried to sound more complicated, his language not quite matching hers. It wasn't for lack of vocabulary or intelligence simply that unless it was technical jargon Virgil spoke simply and she held back a smile at his attempts.

"You don't go home until tomorrow. We can come back and do another gallery before your flight. Then I will have the mental capacity for your oil appreciation class." He smiled shyly and held out an arm to her. If it had been any warmer she had no doubt he would have offered to carry her coat.

Her feet had not quite rested enough by the time they reached the outside world and were strolling through the Jardins des Tuileries.

"Why wear something uncomfortable?" Virgil asked her suddenly, stopping by a bench. "There's no one to see." She wanted to say that there was, he was there and he wasn't 'no one'.

"Fashion, darling."

"There's grass, you could just take them off and be comfortable." She laughed at the notion until she realised he was seriously suggesting she took her heels off. Knowing she would ruin her tights she did so, only to have her shoes snatched lightly out of her hand at once.

"Virgil! Give them back!" There was a grin to rival Gordon's there and he took a step away. Penelope laughed again, her and her classmates had done the same to each other a thousand times. The chase for shoes. Virgil could outrun her easily, staying just beyond reach as they sprinted through the park. He dodged behind a tree, doubling back so that they ran around it laughing. She must have been still in shock from the tunnel, the idea of running through a Parisian park in just her tights chasing after her shoes was so preposterous it was unfathomable almost.

Then Virgil let her catch him and she grabbed the heels, hugging the arm that had been holding them. For the briefest of moments Virgil held her waist before they drew apart, breathless and laughing.

"There, that was better than in shoes."

"That was immature and so incredibly improper," she answered. "And ever so much fun." Heels in one hand, the other holding Virgil's arm, they sauntered on through the gardens. It was strange to no longer be at eye height to him, without her heels she had lost a good five inches and found that she had to look up at him.

All too soon they were back at where Virgil had left the car, a silver convertible from Tracy Enterprises parked along a backstreet behind Champs Elysee. Penelope didn't want to go back to her hotel and then home the next day. She wouldn't admit that she didn't want to have to hand Virgil back to Gordon and Alan and lose her art companion. He was still going on about oils as he drove her back through the early evening Parisian traffic and she listened as carefully as possible to commit the last few minutes to memory.

"Hey, Virg!" Gordon had a bag slung over his shoulder and wet hair that spoke of a visit to the hotel pool. "Good evening, Penelope."

"Hello, Gordon." He gave them a vague wave and started up the stairs. Virgil called the lift for her, the two of them standing inside.

"Thank you," she said as the doors opened for her floor. She smiled, meaning it both for Anderbad and the afternoon at the Louvre.

"My pleasure." His smile was genuine and bright but he turned away and left her at her door. "I'll see you at dinner." She stayed at the door a moment too long before berating herself on the brief moment of sentimentality. She had an hour to get ready and find an equally striking but more comfortable set of shoes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Scott glanced over his shoulder to check that the door to his room was still securely shut before grinning at the screen.

_And she's- Earl- no. She's a countess, right? -_ He had Dubrett's guide open on the desk as he typed. He didn't dare use a call for fear someone would overhear, despite John being in space and the younger three in France. It was a well engrained habit.

_-The countess who can't count -_ Came the reply. _- She's still peeved that her husband isn't a life peer anymore. -_ Scott flicked to the index to try and work out what one of those was.

_-They used to sit in the House of Lords, sort of our Senate. The Aristocrats were removed in favour of former politicians and business tycoons. It all happened about seventy years ago but she still thinks it's an outrage.-_

_-And texting at a party isn't? -_ Scott asked, a smirk playing on his face.

_-I'm taking some air, there's only so long you can be in the same room as her.-_

_-I know a fair few people like that. Only I usually have to sit through the entire meeting and then reach a rational conclusion instead of laughing at their faces.-_

_-How rude! A snigger, even the smirk you probably have on now is acceptable, but laughing? Too vulgar!-_ That, naturally, made him laugh out loud before he bit his lip and checked the door again for eavesdroppers. Four brothers and a houseful of honorary family members made him naturally wary, his conversation made him doubly so.

_-There should be prizes for sitting still with a polite expression. - _He answered.

_-I thought you business types called them deals.-_

_-Touché.-_ Scott texted back.

_-Remind me to teach you how to fence. -_ Scott found a picture of a samurai and sent it.

_-This looks more fun than bendy knitting needles.-_

_-Those needles hurt! Hark! I am called, my little spirit see. Sits on a foggy cloud and stays for me. -_ Scott sighed as the messages stopped, some countess in an English country house robbing him of his only off-island communication. He recognised the quote but knew he couldn't retaliate off the top of his head. Instead he grabbed his phone in case the countess finished her tea anytime soon and let her guest go before heading out to check around base. He would be called if it was an emergency but he liked to be sure everything was in place.

"Hey Scott." John was on the wall talking to their Dad in the lounge when he walked in. "S'up?"

"Nice and quiet around here without the guys." The island was strangely silent without Gordon and Scott smiled as he heard the faintest whisper of the CD Jeff had on in the background to make up for Virgil's absence.

"Nice and sane," Jeff corrected him. Scott felt his pocket buzz and glanced at the phone. Just a spam email. John gave him a smirk that their father missed as he stared down at the paper work in front of him. Responding with nothing more than an eye roll at John's mouthed question of who he was expecting to text, Scott picked up the guitar.

"You mind, Dad?"

"Go ahead." Settling down he began to play quietly as Jeff worked and John was almost but not quite present for a normal moment. He often left the portrait on just to seem like he was sitting there with them.

Scott had only gotten halfway through a very quiet and gentle version of Big Rock Candy Mountain when the alarm went off, blaring out on both sides of the comm. They all snapped to attention at once.

"Landslip, Andes. Triggered local sensors but no call for help so far." John was looked above the screen at his monitors. "I reckon they'll need us as soon as they work out what's happened."

"Scott, call the boys back immediately."

"Yes, sir." Virgil wouldn't be happy, he had been ecstatic when Jeff said the three younger ones could stay in Paris for two days after rescuing Penelope. He would have been content to wander the galleries and museums for the test of his life if no one needed him.

"Virg?" Scott was faced with his brother's face in the watch looking down at him from above a smart shirt and tie. "You'll have to cancel on whatever it is. Landslide in the Andes, Dad wants you all back immediately."

"On our way, Scott." There was only, for a brief moment, a hint of disappointment and Virgil's famous 'do I have to?' face. "Sorry, Penelope. Duty calls. Gords." Virgil was always slow to turn his watch off, as he was in putting down the phone or other things Scott was now used to doing. He was afraid of the trouble an unguarded comment made when he hadn't hung up properly could cause, and with good reason.

Jeff sent out a message to the Peruvian authorities offering help but they declined until they had assessed the situation. The island was left in the lurch, a constant state of readiness as they waited. Every moment brought the others closer, racing against the clock to get back in time to meet the call they hoped wouldn't come through. Scott ended up sitting in the lounge opposite Jeff's desk, fidgeting slightly as he tried to read. His phone went off, even the soft buzz of vibrate seemed loud in the tension. Jeff's curious eyes bore in the back of his head as he checked the text.

_-Now we're both in tomorrow. -_ Scott smiled, the countess had finally allowed her guests to leave. The time difference left his afternoons devoid of any messages as England slept and he wished the earth was flat, if that would help at all.

_-How was the tea?-_

_-Dreadful, darling. Never take tea with a Daily Mail reader; they currently believe caffeine will kill you. Decaffeinated tea is a crime against nature. -_ Scott smirked, keeping the phone tightly by his side in case Jeff looked over.

_-Virgil has a similar reaction to decaf coffee when we try to get him to cut back.-_

"Someone interesting, Scott?" asked Jeff. Scott jumped in surprise and jammed the phone into his pocket.

"Nothing, dad." He ignored the scoff from John.

"Call's coming." The phone was forgotten as they leapt to action stations. "Coach-load of tourists trapped in a cave." Scott was leaning against the wall before Jeff could get the screen up.

"Virgil will meet you there with the Mole," he said. "Thunderbirds are go." Scott spun around and entered the silo, feeling his pocket vibrate just as he was pushed along towards his 'bird. He took it out.

_-There is a silver lining to not having drunk any caffeine, though. Excuse me whilst I go and impersonate a log for a few hours. -_ Scott smiled and texted back a quick good night before turning his phone off. At least he wasn't being impolite as he went to save the world.

… …

**Hello all! Thank you for your lovely reviews! You guys really are the friendliest archive here.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

With Paris cut short and them having to leave halfway through dinner, Virgil hadn't said a proper good-bye to Penelope. As he flew back over the Pacific in Two heading home, the tourists safely at the hospital, he wished he had had just another minute to say more than 'duty calls' before leaving her. Anderbad had been such a shock for her, he was still worried that she was shaken. Certainly, he doubted she would be keen on trains for a while.

"Virg?" Gordon poked him in the back and he realised he had been day dreaming.

"What?"

"Your eyes glassed over, dude. Don't do that when you're at the controls."

"Sorry." Gordon gave him a worried look for another half a second before grinning.

"What's got you so spaced then?" Apparently Virgil had different expressions for bad problems and just casual day dreaming.

"The Louvre, Penelope and I went to look round. Just thinking about some of the stuff there." Gordon rolled his eyes and lost interest quickly. If it was art, he didn't want to know the details of whatever had his brother preoccupied. Virgil wondered how lying came automatically, it would have been equally reasonable to say he was worried about Penelope.

"Hey, Gords? You okay about the shooting in the tunnel?" Virgil hated that his little brother had had to be in a fire fight, it wasn't meant to be part of the rescue job.

"I'm fine." Gordon gave him a cheery little smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'd rather not have to do that again though." There was a quiet moment as they both looked away uncomfortably. Virgil was well aware that Gordon and Scott had both been trained in the armed forces and both kept it quiet, the others didn't delve into that part of their brothers' lives. Gordon had made it quite clear once his short lived naval career was over that he had never fired on anyone, but he had still been trained to, as had Scott. Virgil should have been the one to take on Godber instead of Gordon.

"Don't. Just don't, Virg. I was the only choice for that. Don't even think you should have been in my place." Gordon sighed, tapping at the edge of the console to his favourite annoying beat. "Besides, you had to go rescue the damsel in distress." Virgil rolled his eyes at that. Penelope wasn't a damsel in distress, she was just scared and inches away from death.

"Stop it." Gordon poked his tongue out and carried on tapping. "Seriously, Gords. At least be in time with yourself."

"Mozart," Gordon muttered under his breath. "Not all of us have an inbuilt bet playing constantly."

Gordon fidgeted as they ran the post-flight checks, he hated how Virgil wouldn't let him leave until they were done. After five minutes he was satisfied and Gordon sprinted out of Two, leaving him to walk a bit more calmly away from the hanger.

"How was Paris?" Scott asked as they met up in the corridor, each from their respective silos.

"Beautiful. They had an oil exhibition at the Louvre. Penelope and I went to see it. Mostly little known artists-"

"Virg." He stopped. "Thanks. I'm sure it was great. It Penelope okay?"

"Shaken but she should be alright. The train came pretty close." Too close, so close he didn't want to think about the other scenarios.

"Hey, but you got to her in time and all's well." Scott gave him a hard pat on his shoulder. "I'll call her and check." Virgil nodded, somewhat darkly. Of course, Scott would be the one to call Penelope to check up on her.

"Gordon seems a bit off. We're not used to being shot at."

"I'll talk to him." Virgil smiled, he couldn't feel bitter about Scott sorting everything. That was just what Scott did. "Come on, Dad wants a debrief. He'll probably ask you about Anderbad too whilst he's at it." They walked into the lounge, still in IR mode with John talking from Five.

"One reported casualty further north but there was nothing we could have done. The Peruvian government is issuing statements about the warning systems and repairing roads. Initial surveys suggest there's little risk of a repeat."

"Thank you, John. Alright, you two?" Jeff turned his attention to his two pilots. "Anything?"

"Successful use of the Mole to create a shaft before winching the people to safety. No problems, no complications," answered Virgil. It had been an easy one, something straightforward after the hostage situation in Anderbad. If it had been a day later it would have been almost a gentle way to get back to work after a break.

"Good. Diagnostics checks are clear. Well done." They both mumbled a 'thank you, sir' and the IR duty switch was turned off. "How was Paris?"

"Don't get him started," murmured Scott.

"It was great. Penelope and I went to see an exhibition at the Louvre and Alan and Tin Tin seemed to enjoy themselves. Dunno if Gordon left the hotel pool at all." He had left the young couple at base in the quick change from the plane to Thunderbird 2, only Gordon had been made to go with him to let him operate the Mole. Virgil shot Scott a glance, hoping to show he hadn't rambled on about the Louvre but his brother was looking down at his phone.

"I'm going to shower and sleep, I'm still on European time." Jeff nodded and Scott ignored him, ambling without looking towards the door at the same time as Virgil.

"Sorry," he mumbled as they almost walked into each other. "Hey, what time is it in Europe?"

"Seven am," said Virgil, checking his watch before changing it to the correct time zone. "I've missed a whole night's sleep."

"I can tell."

"Shut up." Scott wandered off and Virgil made a beeline for his shower then the soft haven of his bed. Being nearly half a day ahead of what he thought he was mucked his head up and he closed the blinds, hiding in the darkness. It wasn't the solution to jet lag, but he didn't care. His sheets were cool, shielding him from the island heat which he had momentarily forgotten in France.

"Hey, Virg?"

"Gordon, get lost," he groaned, less than an hour later. "Shouldn't you be asleep?"

"Whatever. I just got a while lecture from Scot. Just thought that apart from giving you some friendly warning about me paying you back, but there's something up with him." Groggily Virgil sat up, frowning.

"Up as in wrong or up, as in he's being an annoying stuck up-"

"As in wrong." Uninvited Gordon had come and sat on his bed, trapping the sheets so Virgil couldn't move to a more comfortable position. "I don't know what's up with him at all."

"He seemed fine to me."

"You didn't get the check-up lecture." Gordon scowled and jumped up, far too full of energy for not having slept. Virgil rolled over as he left, straight into the concealed covering of shaving foam Gordon had managed to spread on his pillow without him noticing. Virgil growled and pulled himself out of bed, knowing that Gordon had given him fair warning and he couldn't complain. He considered just leaving it and going back to sleep but dragged himself to the bathroom to wash his face and grab a towel to cover the pillow.

He debated phoning Penelope to check she was alright once they were gone, wandering into the kitchen to find that everyone else had gone to bed and he was no closer to being on island time than before his nap. He fumbled for the coffee machine only to find that a hand stopped him.

"Not gonna help, Virg," Scott murmured. "Go back to sleep." Virgil grunted and slumped down at the breakfast bar. "Come on, you're jet lagged and you just had a rescue. Go to bed."

"If I was tired, I'd have stayed in bed," he answered. "I will, in a bit." Scott gave him an unimpressed glare and sat down too. "Did you call Penelope?"

"Yeah. She's fine. She said thanks for the trip to the afternoon at the gallery." The Louvre, not their walk through the gardens, Virgil had almost been hoping she would pick up on that more.

"Good."

"Just wish I'd been there, no one should have to go through that. Thanks for being there for her afterwards, Virg." He managed a curt nod in reply. There was a faint buzz, that of a mobile on vibrate and Scott's hand jumped ever so slightly.

"Dude, you can get that," Virgil murmured. The general rule was no phones at the dinner table or during missions, there was no reason for Scott not to reply just then. "I'm going back to bed." Scott was right, he was still exhausted and only after moving around did he realise it.

"Hey, Virg?" Scott called him back and he turned in the doorway. "What's the Tate Modern?"

"London art gallery. Has a load of weird modern art. Unmade beds, bare light bulbs, that sort of thing. Why?"

"Huh? Oh, just wondering." Scott was back to texting again and Virgil walked out, wondering if the shaving foam problem would disappear if he turned his pillow over.

… …

**Thank you to Jo and everyone else who reviewed! You guys are amazing!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Things were quiet, too quiet, Scott thought as he jogged along the beach, his trainers making soft indentations in the sand. For the last few weeks, things had been too tranquil, like the calm sea coloured by the sunset. He loved the sunsets, not perhaps in the poetic way John could phrase them, or with an artistic point of view like Virgil, just that he never stopped being amazed by how each night could be different, the sea turning silver or red or almost inky black as the sun dropped below the horizon. He slowed to a walk, just gazing out at the waves. Calm, untroubled, peaceful. The island was perfect, there was no doubting that, but one thing the endless miles of open ocean brought to mind was how lonely it was. Stuck out in the middle of nowhere, the mainland was several hours away by normal jet and outside his family and the others, there was no one else around. The Tracy's had dropped out of society when International Rescue started, to the world it was merely Jeff wanted to keep his sons close by carting them off to an island paradise to keep them out of the media eye. It had its downsides, mainly that apart from Penelope, Scott hadn't had a face to face conversation with someone his own age who wasn't a brother in nearly three months. Rescues didn't count.

Sitting on the artfully placed log, courtesy of Virgil's painting spree judging by the holds in the sand made by a three legged easel and the paint splattered on a nearby rock, Scott watched the last rays of sun dip behind the ocean. He didn't normally think of taking shore leave, it was Alan who asked for it the most as he wanted to get to a race track or watch a game live, even Gordon and Virgil went on the occasional trip to the mainland, for sports or an exhibition. Scott managed to get off the island to deal with Tracy Enterprises, flying to New York, Tokyo and London regularly but he had only once taken actual shore leave where nothing could bother him, and that had been over a year ago. After the younger three having spent two nights in Paris, he felt that his father wouldn't be justified to refuse him a few days. Scott got to his feet, knowing full well that the tide would come in if he stayed out too much longer. Besides, he wanted to catch his father before Jeff turned in for the night.

"Hey, Dad?" Jeff was sitting reading in his office, something Scott assumed Virgil had composed playing softly in the background.

"Evening, Scott. Everything okay?"

"Dad, I just wondered if I had some shore leave coming up. The guys had some in Paris, which I know wasn't exactly planned, but I was hoping I could take a few days out." They didn't have an official rota, Jeff didn't want to make it seem as if they were forced to stay on the island, it just worked on an informal basis of who had gone last and who hadn't gone for a while.

"Of course. It's about time you got some air. John's due down next week, if you take Alan up to cover for him, you could both get some leave together. He deserves some too." Taking John with him hadn't exactly been what Scott had in mind, but he would be needed to make the shift change on Five so he had to stay until then anyway.

"Thanks, Dad."

"Everything alright? You aren't the one to ask for time off." Scott put on what he hoped was a completely offhand smile.

"I just thought it was time to catch up with some people in person, it's been a long run these last few months."

"You could do with some time out. Where were you planning on heading off to?" He cursed his father for being so inquisitive, even if it was well meaning.

"England," he answered, there was no point trying to be evasive. "There are some friends in Oxford I was hoping to see, and maybe go up to Scotland for a day or two, Penelope keeps telling me I should visit."

"Drop John off at Greenwich on your way?" They shared a grin. "Sure, I'll run it by him."

"I'll call. Night, Dad." Jeff nodded and wished him good night before turning back to his book. Scott sighed once he was out in the corridor, at least John was his first choice to go to England if he had to take a brother. He headed straight back to his room to call Five.

"Johnny?" John was in his pyjamas, sitting in Five's living room with a calculator in one hand and a large sheet of graph paper in the other. "Watcha doing?"

"Complicated astrophysics." Enough said.

"Do you want to come to England with me for a bit when your shift ends? Dad's giving me shore leave, he thinks you deserve some too." John looked up and grinned.

"England?"

"Shut up. Do you want to come or shall I leave you here with only Virgil between you and Gordon's sense of humour?"

"I'll come, as a chaperone." Scott gave him the Tracy death stare which only served to make John laugh. "Lighten up, Scotty. I'd love to go, I'll still get time on the island and I get to spend a few days third wheeling it around random English castles."

"You are not a chaperone and you are not third wheeling." Scott could feel himself going red.

"I'm at least expecting an introduction."

"Will you give it a rest, John? Please? Or I'll tell Gordon what happened to the last box of Oreos." John blanched considerably at that, having persuaded Scott to help him sneak the last container up to Five on the last rotation. Gordon had been more than miffed as he waited for Scott and Tin Tin to run the next supply flight to New Zealand for more. It was a good upper hand to have over John, Scott thought.

"Okay, okay. I'll shut up. I have your word he won't hear of it?"

"Deal. Now, are you down for England or not?"

"Definitely. They're launching a new satellite mission with the rest of the European Space Institute." Scott had tuned out. He had to take John and could leave him at some science thing, he had all the information he needed.

"Great. See you in a week then."

"Night Scotty. Oh, and you might want to actually look up some of your old Oxford professors whilst we're there, Dad talks to a few of them at engineering conferences."

"I don't need you to tell me how to keep my cover," he answered. "Night." John grinned at him and switched the screen off. Scott glanced at the door before taking his phone out.

_-Shore leave granted. -_ He spent five minutes waiting for the reply before getting ready to turn in, knowing that a mixture of time zones and a full schedule kept the reply from coming.

Eventually, just as he gave up on the all-weather glider article he had been reading half-heartedly to pass the time and considered going to bed, his phone buzzed.

_-Would the shore in question happen to be the United Kingdom? -_

_-Unless England removed itself when I wasn't looking. -_ Scott answered, almost dropping the phone as he scrambled to get it.

_-It hasn't managed that yet. When shall we have the pleasure of this visit?-_

_-A week's time. -_

_-The schedule is currently being attacked with a rubber, it shall be cleared. -_ Scott couldn't help but laugh quietly, seeing that picture all too well.

_-There's a catch. -_ He would have to say, otherwise he'd be left to work out how to get rid of John for at least part of his stay without any help.

_-Ah. What would this catch be, exactly?-_

_-John's coming. -_

_-I shall obtain a telescope to keep him occupied, we have a wonderful hill that is periodically invaded by astronomers. We will find a way around your chaperone.-_

_-He is not my chaperone! -_ Scott wondered how many more times he would have to repeat that. He didn't need John around to nose into things, even if his immediate younger brother was his closest, indeed only confidante.

_-We shall see.-_

**... ...**

**The time line isn't in broadcast order, Terror in New York in this happened way before the Perils of Penelope, since there isn't a time frame really for the episodes I'm taking a bit of a free licence.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Penelope put the paper down, half smiling at the sheer ridiculousness of it. Out of curiosity she had read the article advertised on the cover, knowing it was a waste of time but laughing at it all the same.

'The Tracy Boys, the world's most eligible bachelors.' Perhaps they were eligible, but she knew they were certainly not all bachelors now. If she had been feeling a little less composed she might have giggled at the article. It was the harmless sort of press that would be making John snort on Five as he checked the press filters. Tin Tin might even look at it and smile at the inaccuracies.

Apparently Virgil and Gordon were the best catches, being the more artistic, and supposedly more caring one and the Olympic athlete. Penelope wondered why on earth anyone would waste their time bothering to read that rubbish. Only the second column was somewhat more worrying. It listed a few women as potential Tracy girlfriends, some Penelope knew, most she had never heard of. Tin Tin wasn't on the list, and luckily neither was she. There were two girls she knew John had seen at one point which raises questions on how trustworthy they had been. The speculation was harmless and the boys were too focused on their work to cause a scandal. As she knew too well.

"Hello, John, darling." His face lit up the screen behind the muted news playing on the tv. "What can I do for you?"

"Good morning, Lady P. I was just checking Scott had told you that Dad's lumped my shore leave with his. I didn't want to turn up unexpected."

"Scott informed me." John was going to be pleased as punch about trailing after his brother for the week. "I am afraid there will be little for you to do."

"Don't worry, I'm giving a talk at a planetarium. I'll keep myself out of the way."

"You'd never be in the way, John." He laughed.

"Thanks, Penelope, but Scott doesn't see it that way. I'll-" A shrill beeping cut him off. "Gotta go. Duty calls." She gave him a tight nod and he signed off, already looking away at the screen that showed the rescue call.

"Will that be h'all, milady?" Parker asked as he cleared her breakfast things away.

"Yes, thank you, Parker. If you could make sure the rooms are opened for our guests." He nodded although she could sense the slight disapproval in his posture. The number of rooms she had asked to be prepared did not match the number of guests they would be receiving in a few days. She didn't even bother shrugging it off, however, unmuting the morning news.

"We go now to our correspondent in Buckinghamshire, Micheal Haper. Michael." The scene cut to a man in an overcoat standing some distance from a huge fire that blazed around a compound.

"Thank you, Sue. I'm here in south Buckinghamshire where in the early hours of this morning the St Clair oil refinery caught fire. There are reportedly still five workers trapped in an emergency shelter within the facility. The emergency services have so far been unable to control the blaze and a call went out a few minutes ago to International Rescue for assistance in freeing the trapped workers." The man hesitated, listening to his earpiece. "We have just heard that International Rescue have accepted the call and are on their way. Unfortunately that means we will have to relocate as we aren't allowed to film the incredible machines at work." Penelope checked where the scene was, knowing that a visit would be unlikely but not entirely impossible.

She waited and watched the news, answering a mildly panicked call from Lady Roberts, the wife of a knight whose house was uncomfortably near the fire and who wanted reassurance that she would be compensated for any damage. Penelope wondered why she was the first person called but was well used to giving comforting replies and Lady Roberts hung up to go and get herself a calming cup of tea. After getting rid of Lady Roberts Penelope got out the day's work, dealing first with the estate letters and queries from tenants with the news on in the background. Then she moved on to more enjoyable things, notably planning a ball.

Finally, just as the news reporter told her that the Thunderbirds had taken off after saving the day, she got a call.

"Scott."

"Everything's under control, Penelope." Scott looked away, still professional as if he was at the rescue zone. "You might want to tell the lady who was hovering around that none of her land was damaged and the ground is safe."

"I'll see you in a few days then."

"Bye, Penelope." Jeff, or at the least, John could be listening and she didn't dare say anything else. She was unsure exactly what John was aware of, or thought he knew. She had seen, however, the tiniest of smiles grace Scott's lips when she mentioned the coming week. He wasn't a robot on a mission, not underneath.

"Oh, and Virgil asked how you are."

"Wonderful, thank you." It had been a while since Anderbad and although she had suffered from the occasional nightmare, she would not count herself traumatised. Far worse had happened to her in her time and Virgil Tracy hadn't always been there to get her free. She wondered if it was some lingering fear on his part that she was delicate and fragile or if Virgil was asking out of friendly curiosity.

Even after Scott's face had disappeared her smile lingered a moment.

Almost at once she sprang back to the work she had set out whilst watching the rescue. She had to help arrange a ball in aid of Guide Dogs, which happened to coincide with the boys' being over. Knowing that they would forget to bring a suit, they were on shore leave after all and hardly assumed they would need a tux, she set about finding them each one for the evening. Her own dress would require more thought.

… …

**Sorry this one took a bit longer to write and that it's more filler than anything.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Virgil stared out at the sea, his fingers fiddling his charcoal pencil on the paper. It had the peculiar grey green stripes that belied corral and rocks underneath, clouds castings shadows on the waves. It wasn't the picture perfect calm sea of paradise, it was choppy and dangerous but from his room it was beautiful in its own rugged way. He had lost track of what he was actually drawing, hardly glancing down at the paper although he hand moved across it. Penelope had been there at one point during a choppy period in the weather, for which they had apologised and complained about but she had laughed it off, saying it was no worse than a sunny day in Bournemouth. Virgil had googled Bournemouth afterwards and found she was exaggerating the weather there.

"Hey, Virg?" Gordon's overly loud voice cut through his musings.

"Is there something wrong with the lock on my door?" Gordon sailed in, peering over his shoulder and sitting down on the windowsill all in one movement.

"It's not exactly a submarine hatch, Virg. Now those can be hard to get open in a hurry."

"What do you want?"

"Scott's going to England." Virgil's head snapped around to stare at his little brother. "Aha! So you do like her!"

"What?"

"Penelope. You've gone all red and you're miffed that he's going to England and you're not." Gordon was laughing now, clapping his hands in glee.

"Shut up, Gords. I'm surprised, he hasn't mentioned it to me." Scott so rarely went on shore leave, usually just gleaning an extra day in New York or London went sent on business trips.

"Of course not, he's already having to take John. I was just saying, they're leaving as soon as they get down from Five which should be this afternoon. So if you want to write a love note to Lady P or something, you'd better do it quick. Maybe Scott'll give it to her for you." Virgil glared at him.

"Where did you get the idea that I'd want to say anything to Penelope?" he asked stiffly. He hadn't said anything about her, least of all to Gordon. Sure, he'd asked Scott to say something when they'd been in England on a rescue but just politeness. Nothing to betray the fact that she was his mind's default setting. The subjects of his drawings had changed from mechanical sketches and island landscapes to flowing lines, crowded streets and plants. He played the composers she had told him about but never once spoke about her.

"Um, it's the back of her head." Gordon tapped his sketch pad. "Tin Tin's hair's longer than that." Virgil stared down at it, unaware that he had been doodling the back of a woman's head. Gordon was right, a short bob atop a graceful neck would only be one person.

"It's Audrey Hepburn, I just haven't shaded her hair in yet," he spluttered quickly.

"You're a terrible liar, Virg."

"Can't you go and pretend to be a fish or something?" Gordon had developed a habit of interrupting him over the last few months, he would just sit with him by the piano or easel and Virgil tolerated him as long as he was quiet. He was never still so he wasn't a good model and he could only manage an hour or so at a time, watching or reading before he left. Virgil hadn't asked why, he just knew. At the start they hadn't really understood what they were getting themselves in for, then International Rescue became more active until recently the whole world seemed to need them on a near daily basis. Stress would usually drive Gordon to the pool, it was the enduring strain that made him seek out the quietest brother on earth. Virgil wondered if John ever got long, mostly silent calls from Gordon, or if long distance communication failed to have to same effect.

"I've already gone swimming. Besides, making you look like a tomato is fun. You like Penelope, that fine, dude. Exactly how many girls do we ever meet? Figures you and Scott'd both fall for the same one though."

"I haven't fallen for Penelope. I'm sketching Audrey Hepburn."

"And now you've mucked it up because you're annoyed that Scott's going to see her in England and you're not."

"How do you know Scott's going to see her specifically?"

"Do you remember how he was just before he left for the air force? That summer between coming back from Oxford and leaving for training?" Gordon asked. "Distracted, unable to really tell us off? And always on his phone, texting?" Virgil nodded slowly. "Well, John said it was because he had a girlfriend. He even said, once when Grandma asked him. He's like that again now: love sick." Gordon was grinning as if it was the most brilliantly funny thing ever. "And so are you."

"I'm not. How do you know it's Penelope though? He could have met anyone."

"Yeah right. So he's going to Buckinghamshire, to stay with Penelope, he calls her regularly and John won't answer me straight when I ask him if they're dating." Gordon's arguments were convincing and that ate away at Virgil somewhat. He had known Scott and Penelope were close, Scott had known her the longest and helped Jeff bring her in to the family business. It made sense, even if he didn't like it.

"Thanks, Gords. I really needed you to spell that out for me." The smile slipped off of the redhead's face.

"Virg, I was pointing it out. Scott's different, calmer at home. He's always calm on rescues, but he's like he used to be, when he'd come back from school."

"You mean before the air force." It hung between them for a moment, uncomfortably filling the air around them. The thought of Scott actually killing someone, although they were all pretty sure he had, was almost unimaginable. As was the idea of Gordon doing it.

"Yeah."

"Thanks," murmured Virgil. "I guess I didn't see it like that." Scott was the one who has given up the most not only for International Rescue but for his brothers as well, ever since they were small and their mother had died. Gordon was pointing out, in the only way he could, that Virgil had to take a step back. He began shading in the woman's hair, slowly turning it into someone who could have passed as Audrey Hepburn from behind.

"Uh- I'll go, Virg." Gordon actually looked abashed and awkward.

"Nah, sit. It's fine."

"You're upset, aren't you?"

"No, I guess I didn't plan on doing anything. Alan's got the only practical solution." Gordon sniggered before pulling a puking face.

"Those two though. They're going to go diabetic they're so sweet." Virgil managed to laugh at that. He couldn't just let Penelope go but he had never done anything to hint to anyone, except Gordon apparently, that he felt anything more than polite friendship with Penelope. It wouldn't be hard to keep things as they were.

"You want to go a few games on the tennis court?" Virgil asked after a few minutes, giving up on the drawing. It didn't look right with dark hair, the solid colour made his perspective mistakes show up even more than usual.

"Sure." Gordon was up, bursting with energy as he put his pencils away. "Your hands will have cramp by now, prepare for a love set."

"I've been practicing my backhand with Tin Tin. Don't be so sure."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Scott looked over his shoulder as John climbed aboard Three. Tin-Tin have Alan a little wave before they shut the airlock.

"Heya, guys." John stowed his bag away and buckled down.

"All set?" asked Scott. Upon hearing the two affirmations he called through to Alan. "Thunderbird Three to Thunderbird Five. Awaiting detachment all clear."

"All clear, Thunderbird Three. Air locks closes and ready for detachment," Alan's voice answered. "See you in a month." Scott and Tin-Tin broke Three away and charted the course back towards Earth.

"Easy on the controls, Scotty."

"I know what I'm doing, John," he answered curtly.

"John's just checking you're not about to jump the gun and bring us down in a rush." Tin-Tin was smirking in a way that could only have been learnt from Gordon.

"I know how to land safely." He didn't care for their teasing much. Yes he was impatient to get flying and get to England, but he would never sacrifice the safety of anyone on a Bird. To prove his point he brought Three down as gently as a feather landing, as if it was One in his hands not Alan's Bird.

"John!" Gordon was their waiting with Grandma at the door to Three's silo, Scott getting lumbered with John's bag somehow. Grandma hugged John tightly before giving him a thorough examination.

"You look under fed, my dear. Those ready meals are no good for you. Come and get something substantial," Grandma said all in one breath and led him down towards the kitchen.

"I should sort my bags out, Grandma, Scott and I are leaving right away." Scott was relieved that John at least remembered they were due in at North Buckinghamshire airfield in a few hours.

"Oh, Scott can take that. You come along. You'll still get to go. I want to see you properly before you disappear off again!" So with an apologetic glance John was taken off, leaving Scott and Tin-Tin in the corridor.

"Don't worry, Scott. He won't be long. You'll still get to England on time." Tin-Tin had another of Gordon's wicked grins on. "I heard Penelope's hosting a charity ball. You and John'll be there in time for it." It was the first Scott had heard of a ball at all. His surprise must have shown on his face for she continued. "Didn't she tell you? Oh, I am sorry. It must have been a surprise. She asked me to check your sizes for a tux."

"It's- yeah, it's not a problem, Tin. She didn't mention it. I'd better go drop this off in John's room, at least get myself ready to go."

John arrived twenty minutes later, giving Scott an apologetic shrug.

"I'll be quick. I've seen Virg and Gordon. Dad won't take two minutes max. We won't be late for the airfield."

"S'okay, Johnny. Go ahead and see Dad." Scott knew Jeff wanted to see his second son before they left, calls from Five just weren't the same. As if to make them go all the faster, Jeff appeared.

"Dad!" John cried, grinning. "I was literally-"

"I thought I'd save you some time. Have a nice trip, boys. You both deserve a break. I'll see you when you get back." Jeff gave John a rough pat on the shoulder. "Now get a move on, or the airfield will complain for you messing up their schedule." Scott had to wait another few minutes as John gathered the bags he had already directed Virgil to pack and then Jeff was helping them towards the hanger for Tracy One.

"Clear for take-off," Tin-Tin told them over the comm. "Have fun."

They were quiet for a while, Scott getting them up as John looked out at the sea below.

"So, what's the rush? Someone waiting at the airport?" he asked with a smirk.

"Just Penelope." John knew there was someone, Scott hadn't given many more details. Part of him relished a secret, something having four nosy brothers made a rarity.

"You've got Gordon fooled. Which means you'll have Virgil fooled as well," said John. "I just don't get why all the secrecy, Scotty. It's not a bad thing, having someone. You're better somehow, not as army-like." Scott hadn't noticed that he had changed at all, but the thought of it made him smile.

"Yeah, I suppose I am." John laughed, patting his shoulder.

"Look at you, grinning like Alan does. So come on, you've kept me in the dark." Scott shot him an incredulous look, John knew more than anyone else on the island, he was the one person Scott trusted to keep a tight mouth. "You're going to introduce us, right?"

"Course." Scott shrugged, tapping at the controls for something to do. It wasn't that he didn't want to introduce John, is was more that he wanted to keep something private, separate from his brothers who had always shared everything.

"Scott?"

"I'm not going to rant, Johnny. Not like Virgil does when he's got something he loves, he always did when he got to ask a girl out at school. You'll see what I mean, I just hope you guys get on okay." John looked slightly astonished for a second.

"Whoa. I-" John shook his head. "I didn't realise you actually meant it like, properly." As much as he wanted to keep it private Scott was desperate for one of his brothers at least to meet and like them, sooner rather than later.

"It's important, John."

"Yeah. Yeah, I can tell." There was something sad in John's eyes as he quickly looked away. "How long until England?"

"ETA one hour and thirty four minutes." Scott flicked off the autopilot and focused on flying for a while, John having fallen silent beside him. They crossed the ocean quickly, the Atlantic falling away beneath them as he descended towards Buckinghamshire's northern airfield.

"You gonna tell?" John asked just as the engines cut out. Scott sighed. He hadn't made up his mind on that bit yet. Spilling the International Rescue beans required some forethought.

"Eventually. Not now, not this time." He would leave all of that behind as he stepped off the plane. Field Commander, Thunderbird One pilot, all of that meant nothing for a week.

Penelope was smiling at them as she waited with Parker by the Rolls.

"Scott, John. How lovely to see you both. Did you have a good flight?"

"It was blue skies all the way," answered Scott as he gave her a courteous peck on the cheek. They loaded their bags into the boot with Parker's help. As he stepped aside, Scott caught the butler's eye and swallowed hard at the look of firm disapproval that met him. Penelope could keep nothing secret from Parker it seemed, logistics required details. Hesitantly, Scott got in beside Penelope and John, half turning his back on the driver's seat.

"Tin-Tin told me you're planning on getting us both into tuxedos," Scott said with a slightly forced smile, Parker having knocked some of his stuffing out slightly.

"Just a charity do, only a few friends and that sort. Don't look so worried, John dear. You'll both look so very dashing on the night."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

Scott hefted his bag over his shoulder as Parker showed him and John to their rooms. He was used to Penelope's mansion, he knew it well enough to be surprised when John was sent off down a different corridor and Parker stood stiffly showing him his door.

"Look, Parker, I don't-"

"Will that be all, Mr Tracy?" the butler asked stiffly. Scott bit his lip and nodded but Parker had already walked away. Taken aback he dropped his bag onto the bed. The island was luxurious but in a different, modern way with in built screens and sleek lines. Penelope's house always surprised him in the sheer detail, most of which Scott knew he was oblivious to. He traced the silver and blue swirls on the covers and poked the matching hangings around the bed.

Parker's reaction had surprised him, not that he wasn't expecting something along the same lines from someone. He guessed that if anyone had to criticise him, he'd prefer it to be Parker whom he rarely saw than John or Jeff.

"Hey, Scott?" John was at the door, a piece of paper in his hand. "Penelope called us down for tea. I've got a few things planned so I won't get in your way much." Scott sighed, he now had time to get over his annoyance at having to bring John with him and felt bad about planning to ignore his brother for a week when he spent so little time on earth.

"I'm sorry dad made you come, Johnny. I know there are a hundred other places you'd rather spend your shore leave."

"Actually, I'm in luck, there's a meteor shower that'll be pretty cool to see from earth for once. Plus I'm earning some credit for giving the lecture, keeping up with the whole, I'm actually a normal academic guy persona." John waved the piece of paper in front of Scott's face as they made their way down the stairs.

"What's this?" Scott tried and failed to grab it at first.

"Penelope saved it, it was in the paper. Look." Scott looked, stopping to read it. Finally he burst out laughing, taking John by surprise. "What? It wasn't that funny."

"You'll see," he said, grinning. "Nice to know that Gord's is a better catch than either of us." It was amusing and appealed to Penelope's sense of humour, he could see why she bothered keeping it to show him.

"Good to know there are still people in Kansas who remember us." John peered at the photos of several women, two of which Scott vaguely remembered from high school. Clearly having been asked to prom by a fourteen year old John merited an appearance in the paper.

"Come off it, John. It's harmless. We can't censor everything." They had reached the parlour, for which Scott had been learning the proper name, Penelope sitting ready by the tea table.

"You're going to have to be careful," answered John.

"Quite right, mind the service, Scott." Penelope ushered him into a seat carefully. "And the press too." Scott sighed, he knew that it was a close run thing between someone in the British press finding out and him working up to telling Jeff. He hoped the latter came first. Scott served the tea, pouring it out carefully, almost oblivious to the others as he was caught up in his own thoughts.

"Where'd you learn what all that does, Scott?" John asked, nodding in approval as he took a cup.

"Scott recently acquired the complete series of Upstairs Downstairs and Downton Abbey," Penelope answered with a concealed smirk.

"No, I didn't!" Scott glowered at them over the rim of his cup.

"Right sorry, it was Pride and Prejudice." John looked as if he was expecting a death glare but instead got a shrug.

"Nineteen ninety-five," Scott answered. He had actually sat through it and although it was better than some of the shows he had seen over the years, it was hardly his cup of tea.

"Penelope, please ask British society to give my brother back," John murmured, making her laugh.

"It is my belief that society wishes to keep him, I'm afraid." The tea disappeared at an appropriate rate and the tiny pastries didn't live long either.

"I do apologise, boys but I have a call to make. Perhaps you would show John the new rockery garden, Scott, since you helped build it last time you were here." Scott smiled as he remembered helping Perce move the stones for the rock garden built against the wall by the main gates. The plants had had a year to grow, it would look just as Penelope had planned.

"Sure thing. Come on, Johnny." Scott led him out of the French doors and into the gardens. Whilst it wasn't overly interesting, he felt like a walk after being cooped up in a plane for so long and Penelope had requested some privacy with whatever it was.

The rockery wasn't exactly spectacular and Scott had been expecting something more for the amount of work that had gone into it. The coloured moss and lichen were pretty, but hardly comparable to the natural rock formations back on the island. Remembering the help he had had building it though, the outcome was hardly significant.

"So, when am I meeting them?" John asked, clearly unable to resist the urge to walk along the flat rocks like a child running along a low wall.

"At dinner." Scott flashed a grin and walked alongside John, finding it odd to have to look up to him so much. "Penelope sprang the ball on me. Hopefully dad won't need us for the full week." It had crept back in, thoughts of base and their responsibilities.

"I checked the reports before I came down from Five. No alarming seismic activity, no real storms brewing. We can't rule out accidents, but dad will give us as long as he can." That said, they could be called back at any moment and their week's shore leave would be gone. Scott desperately wanted the world to cope without them, just for a few days, however selfish that might be. John jumped down as they reached the end of the rockery. "Hey, who's that?"

Scott turned around, his face breaking into a grin as he saw the figure striding up the driveway. A car must have pulled up whilst they weren't paying attention. Impulsively he stretched out his arms, laughing.

"Elizabeth!" he called excitedly.

**A huge thanks to all my lovely reviewers :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Scott was knocked to the ground by the force of the impact, laughing as his vision was obscured by fur. Elizabeth barked excitedly at him, the chocolate Labrador proceeding to lick his face in welcome.

"Hello there, girl. Missed you too." He made a point of not looking up at the person standing a few feet behind Elizabeth, fussing the dog as he tried to stand up. "Okay, Lizzy, you can let me up now." Obediently she sat down at his feet.

"Nice to see your priorities." Scott smiled, dusting himself off.

"You have a dog, yet you expect him to remember there are people around?" John asked incredulously. "Hi. I'm John."

"Good morning." Scott looked up nervously, suddenly remembering his little brother was there as well. "Thomas." They shook hands. "And this, of course, is Elizabeth." John patted her gently, receiving a welcoming bark. Scott had stood up, his easy grin replaced by a more anxious smile. Suddenly he didn't know what to do with himself with John there as well. Tommy solved his problem by wrapping an arm around his shoulders briefly.

"Hey," he murmured.

"You're inventive." Tommy was smiling though, looking up at the rockery. "Penny said it was growing well." John shot him a quizzical, almost confused look. "We built it for her," Tommy continued as if the look had been at him.

"It looks good." Scott gave John a tiny nod in answer to his question. Tommy was one of Penelope's guests.

"Well, she asked me to come and get you both. She's serving supper early before we go out." Scott glanced at his watch and frowned. They had been out in the gardens for longer than he realised. He didn't remember Penelope mentioning plans for their first night, however.

"Where're we going?" he asked Tommy as Elizabeth ran back in front of them towards the house. All he got in reply was a thin smirk he hadn't realised he missed. When the tiny lines of text came through he heard the soft Scottish lilt but it wasn't the same as hearing the quiet laugh by his side. John followed them, not quite falling into step with them but not exactly behind either.

"There you boys are." Penelope had changed for some reason, Scott had to search for a reason as to why and looked at his own clothes. He took some consolation in the corduroys and shirt Tommy was in as proof that he wasn't doing anything wrong. "Supper will be any moment, if you want to freshen up."

"Hey, Scott? Can I have a word?" John called. Tommy's hand rested on his elbow for half a second then he carried on. Scott's nerves resurfaced with every step he took towards the billiard room John had gone into.

"So," he murmured awkwardly.

"You idiot, Scotty." John was smiling at him, shaking his head. "Okay, so I'd get pretending you didn't have anyone, we live with Gordon. But you didn't have to cover that bit up!" Scott shrugged. Gordon had believed he and Penelope were a thing and out of respect for her he had held back on the teasing, Scott had let it happen to avoid a conversation with Jeff which he had been putting off for too long.

"I'm kinda hurt, Scott. That you'd think anyone would care. This isn't the twenties you know. Besides, it wouldn't exactly be a new thing." John leaned back against the billiard table, arms folded. Scott allowed himself to relax his stance slightly.

"So? You like him?"

"Dude, I've barely said two words to him. He seems great though, Scott." Relieved that he at least had one person on his side Scott glanced out towards the dining room. "Come on, Penelope will skin us if we're not appropriately attired.

Scott entered the dining room barely five minutes later in a fresh shirt, avoiding Elizabeth who had taken up residence outside the door through which she was not permitted to enter. With John's introduction out of the way he could let himself relax and didn't bother dulling the smile that came unbidden as Tommy waved him over. Seated next to Penelope and opposite her brother, sat Anne, small and sweet in brown curls that matched Tommy's.

"Hello, Anne." She hugged him before they both sat down. "How are you?"

"Just fine, you Scott? I've been told there's a brother but I'm afraid I can't remember which one."

"John."

"Yes?" By chance the blond astronaut appeared as his name was said.

"John, this is Tommy's sister, Anne." John sat himself next to her at the only set place remaining. A small smile flashed between Scott and Tommy for a moment.

"John, dear. Anne writes science fiction," said Penelope.

"I hope that's not overly offensive to an astronaut." Scott let their conversation fade out slightly as soon as he was happy that John was at ease, laughing back as he began talking to Anne.

"Told you," Tommy whispered. So he had, but Scott had been cautious all the same. Any distraction from keeping his brothers alive, anything that could come between them was a liability and he had been afraid of creating one by introducing Tommy to them. One down, he thought, three to go. "There's a-"

"Now, the show begins at seven," Penelope said rather loudly, cutting through their two conversations. "John, what is your opinion of a Midsummer Night's Dream?"

"Possibly the only part of High School English I actually enjoyed." For all he was the maths whiz, John had a fondness for Shakespeare and Penelope couldn't have chosen better. Scott did groan slightly, it was far from his idea of a good evening.

"Splendid."

"Penny, do you mind if I borrow Scott for a bit? Anne will tell you, I'm the worst person to see a play with, I end up saying the lines along with the actors." Tommy flashed her a bright smile.

"Not a bit." Curiosity reared its head inside Scott but he got nothing more in reply. Apparently Anne and John and each read the other's books, Anne for research and John by a coincidence that Scott might have helped occur by giving him the said book for Christmas. Tommy had suggested it and it came highly recommended.

"I can't clear the whole week," Tommy murmured. "Some people can't be rearranged." Scott couldn't blame him for that, a psychiatrist couldn't cancel on patients easily and he knew what it was like to be on call for work on a permanent basis. "Sorry."

"It's not your fault, I need to go see some people in Oxford anyway." He forgot sometimes how close everything was in England, Oxford was barely an hour by bullet train, he could make it there and back in an afternoon.

"The Highlands are still on, we'll get some proper air into you." Scott rolled his eyes.

"The only proper air is in Kansas." Identical sniggers came from all three of their fellow diners, telling them their banter had been a little too loud.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Penelope couldn't help but smile discreetly at the couple by her side. Scott had his boyish grin just fighting to get through and Thomas had to stare at the soup to not seem too much the besotted schoolboy. She pretended not to notice how they were ever so slightly turned towards one another or how they passed the condiments to each other without having to be asked. It had amazed her since she introduced them how perfectly in sync they were with each other, something she couldn't help but be ever so slightly envious of. On her other side John and Anne seemed to be getting along well enough, both aware that they had been thrown together to facilitate their brothers' meeting. She was surrounded by a mixture of low American and soft Scottish voices, a welcome change from her fellow southerners' clipped murmurs. Anne and Thomas

"Now, I believe we are all ready to be off?" Dinner over she stood, her guests rising with her. She turned to Anne and John, ushering them out into the cloakroom. "Do bear with one moment, my dears." She slipped into the parlour as John handed Anne her coat.

"Good evening, Penny," Jeff said brightly from the screen. "What can I do for you? The boys aren't misbehaving, are they?" She gave a dainty smile.

"Not at all, Jeff. I was calling to ask a favour."

"Go ahead." His smile was still benevolent.

"Don't call Scott unless you absolutely have to. If need be, John can go back, but not Scott." Jeff frowned slightly, it was an odd request. She had to do this though, she had to buy Scott a few days at least. Although there was no assurance that the world wouldn't descend into mayhem without him, she had to try and give him the time he needed off duty.

"Penny, is everything alright?"

"Scott needs a break, Jeff. Not just a holiday, not just a day or two. Of course I understand that you can't guarantee that. But if you could try and leave it to a last resort."

"Sure thing, Penny. I'll do my best." She graced him with a smile, hoping she hadn't concerned him too much. There was a plethora of things Scott was keeping from his father, things that needed time to get accustomed to being out in the light. Only once he was used to the idea that not only were they there but they needed addressing would he be ready to tell Jeff about them.

"All set?" she asked John and Anne, donning her coat. Parker was waiting outside next to the Rolls, Scott and Thomas by Thomas' Porsche.

"He still won't tell me where we're going," Scott complained. He was unused to not being in on a secret, although Penelope had no idea what Thomas was planning either.

"Then you will have to get in and find out," answered Thomas as he got into the driver's seat. "Enjoy your evening, Penny!" John had helped Anne into the Rolls, waiting on Scott and Penelope.

"Just relax," she told him quietly. "Enjoy yourself." Briefly she could see his thoughts going to the Thunderbirds and the constant worry the responsibility of keeping the world safe caused for him, a slight frown forming for half a second. Then Thomas tapped on the window and Scott's face lit up in his shy grin. She smiled back, just seeing his boyish excitement was endearing and so unlike his usual stoic self. There was the Scott who could be Gordon's brother, she thought.

"See you later, Penelope," he called.

"No, dear, I doubt you will." Parker helped her up into the car next to Anne.

"So, where are they off to?" John asked immediately, making them laugh. Anything to know something his brother didn't.

"He wouldn't tell me," Anne answered, slightly put out. Both turned to Penelope expectantly, the faces of two younger siblings desperate to know a secret.

"I honestly have no idea." John seemed ready to believe her, Anne was slightly more suspicious. "You will have to ask them when they return." She was curious as well since Thomas hadn't decided on having dinner out and there were only a limited number of things within reasonable distance of her estate and Thomas' London apartment that she could imagine anyone trying to take Scott to. Although she had enough decorum not to ask, unlike the couple's younger siblings.

The theatre was full but the box Penelope had booked could have seated six comfortably. A camera flashed as they walked in, focused on someone else. A midsummer night's dream wasn't her Shakespeare play of choice, she had chosen it partly due to schedule and a dim memory of Virgil telling her John preferred it. She smiled to herself, Virgil would sit through it with her but theatre wasn't his cup of tea.

"I haven't seen them put the actors on stage for Quince's prologue before," Anne said in the car as Parker drove them out of the West End back towards Buckinghamshire. Penelope half listened to her and John debating and complimenting it, getting along out of necessity and her ability to judge people.

"They're not back," muttered John as they got out next to the empty space he had expected to be filled by Thomas' Porsche. There was the Tracy concern surfacing in his voice. If they were going to return, they would have done by then, it being nearly two in the morning.

"John, darling, I was not expecting them back tonight," Penelope told him gently. "You needn't worry yourself." Anne simply rolled her eyes at that.

"Right, yeah." John had gone bright red. "Thanks, Lady P, it was a great show."

"Good night, dear." John was still embarrassed but she didn't doubt it would go by the time Scott got back and his older brother was available for teasing. She could only imagine what it would be like eventually back on the island when Gordon found out the truth.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Scott got into the car, feeling the mixture of excited and worried anticipation, like when Gordon handed him a surprise present.

"Are you going to tell me now?" he asked Tommy. Hiking in the Highlands had always been the plan but Scott had no idea what was going on. Which was unusual, yet not altogether unwelcome.

"Nope. Come on, patience, Scott. It'll be worth it." Scott turned to glance out the window to avoid staring at the profile presented next to him for too long. He had missed putting a face and voice to the words, looking on them as if they were new.

"You don't have a car," he said suddenly.

"I've borrowed Annie's, who needs cars in London?"

"So it's not in London?" Scott grinned.

"In case you hadn't noticed, Penny doesn't live in Buckinghamshire."

"So it is in London?" Tommy just laughed, shaking his head in mirth. "Fine." He stared out at the signposts going past. Most were names he didn't recognise.

"So John seems grand," Tommy said after a moment. "I told you he would be."

"You did. Hence you're the psychic not me."

"Psychiatrist. Anyway, did he read what I sent you?"

"Ate it, John eats books. You feed him one and he's done in a day."

"Then he's in Annie's good books already. You're both up for Scotland? I want you to see Drumlanring." Tommy's ancestral home, a castle in the lowlands of Scotland that Scott was regularly told about.

"If he wants to. I can't wait." It would be some time before Tommy could see the island, some things had to be explained first. "Wait- are your parents there?"

"They'll love you, Scott. I swear they will." Scott stared out of his window, refusing to look at Tommy. "Scott, come on-"

"It's fine."

"No, it's clearly not. What's wrong?" He had gone slightly red, looking out with a slight frown.

"I've never met anyone's family. Anne was new." He felt petty, stupid even for being afraid, especially since he had family coming out of his ears. Tommy didn't laugh, instead Scott felt a gently hand find his knee for half a second.

"You don't have to."

"No," he said quickly. "I want to." He did, but he wanted Jeff to know, without him having to tell him. It wasn't just that his father was slightly behind the times, but that Tommy was an outsider and anyone who was going to be a part of his life had to be in on the secret. Which so far Tommy wasn't.

"We're here," Tommy murmured, stopping the car in a lay-by that seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. A single footpath led across the fields, away from the road they had been driving down.

"Where?" asked Scott as they got out. It was nearing sunset and he couldn't see anything apart from countryside, which was pretty enough and quaint as the hedgerows of old England were.

"Come on." Tommy took his hand, grinning and led to the footpath. It wasn't really wide enough for two people but the grass was dry on either side and they managed to avoid walking in single file for most of the way.

"Not exactly tropical, I know, but still." Tommy was looking up at the sunset as they created a hillock. The fields had turned purple and red, the outlines of trees breaking it up in a way the sea back at base didn't.

"It's grand," Scott muttered, wondering why Tommy had driven him an hour just to see a sunset over fields that were identical closer to Penelope's.

"That's not it, by the way." Tommy was off again, walking quicker with excitement. "It's not far."

The building sprang out of the ground, suddenly as if it had been waiting for them. Scott recognised it as an aircraft hangar, the field they had walked through revealed itself as a disused airstrip. Hidden by a thick grove of trees the concrete and metal building came upon them unawares. Tommy went straight to the small door set beside the hanger entrance, producing a key.

"They abandoned this place when they built Luton, now they're planning on doing away with that since London Airfield serves the whole area. Gone are the days when London has five different airports." Scott followed him inside curiously. "The old planes, the Lancaster Bombers and Concorde are all in museums, but they left this one here. A friend of mine is the caretaker's daughter, she lent me the key for the day as long as I swore we wouldn't touch it."

"Whoa." Scott stared at the plane. "A Hawker Siddeley Harrier." Khaki coloured with a nose like a dolphin version of Pinocchio, the old jet stood in the hanger surrounded by empty space that could easily have held another. "The first plane to perfect a vertical lift off and landing." Like Thunderbird One, it didn't require a runway. The technology was useful in tight spots but had gone out of fashion with most militaries in favour of faster jets that could take off quicker. "Tommy, that's awesome!" Tommy was just smiling at him, unmoved by the plane.

"Surprise?"

"Thanks. It's amazing." To feel the craft going up without a horizontal take off was incredible, flying like a bird did, straight up into the air but with the grace a space rocket lacked. Scott loved Three and the feeling of bursting through the sky and away from Earth, yet nothing compared to his baby. Nothing was like flying One, the smug feeling of informing the local airfield that he wouldn't require a runway. And the Harrier had made it possible.

"Scott?" He hadn't noticed Tommy coming to stand next to him and jumped slightly. "Earth to Scott." Tommy didn't know what the Harrier meant, just that it was a plane he talked about. Scott smiled at him.

"Sorry."

"I'm not taking you to the Biggin Hill museum, I'd like some of your attention at least." Scott kissed him to make up for it and wasn't let go of for a long moment.

"Go on," Tommy murmured, giving him a playful shove away. "Get a proper look before it's too dark to walk back." Scott wandered around the plane, fighting the smirk that arose as he caught sight of Tommy watching him.

"What?" he called across the hanger.

"I think you've got a crush," Tommy answered. "On Harrier here." Scott could feel himself going bright red under the glaring hanger lights.

"She's beautiful." Indeed she was, streamlined and powerful, her underbelly hiding the machinery that enable her magnificent take offs.

"Not half bad yourself. Come on, I'd like to not fall down a rabbit hole on the way back to the car." Almost reluctantly Scott completed his circuit of the Harrier, wishing he could take a look inside at the engines or cockpit. Tommy was holding out his hand patiently.

"It's a shame to have her locked up in here," Scott murmured as they closed the door.

"Beth's dad gets her out for shows every now and then, but most museums have one and there isn't much need for her. Still, I thought you'd like her."

"Thank you." Scott glanced back once at the hanger before it was hidden by the trees. Clouds covered the moon making the path almost pitch black and Tommy stumbled along beside him, far less sure footed. Scott kept one arm firmly entwined with his to make sure he remained upright. Finally they saw the dark outline of the car and Tommy leaned against in, welcoming something solid.

"You okay?" asked Scott quietly as he wrapped an arm around his waist.

"I stubbed my toe on the tarmac. Typical." Scott could see the smile and knew Tommy wasn't actually in much pain.

"I suppose we ought to head back, Penelope will think we've galled into Wonderland or something," he said quietly. As much as seeing Penelope and spending some time alone with John was nice, he didn't want to leave the dark lay-by and admit that there was a world that contained more than just Tommy.

"I did suggest she might not expect us back." Tommy had the ability to control when he blushed and just to annoy him refused to mimic the red shade Scott had gone. "We're sort of equidistant to her place and mine. Well, we're closer to hers but there's only half an hour in it." It hung there for a moment, Scott unsure of what to say. He knew what he wanted, but he also knew that by not showing up he would be sharing some details with John and Annie, which went against whatever intense obsession with privacy he had just developed. He felt Tommy sigh before receiving a quick kiss.

"Okay, come on then," came the soft Scottish murmur. Scott pulled away slightly, letting a grin flash in the dark. "What? Hey!" He held the keys aloft, laughing as Tommy's hand went to his back pocket.

"I can drive as well as fly, you know," Scott called, getting in. He missed whatever Tommy muttered in his direction.

"Right side of the road." Scott corrected himself as he drove off back towards the motorway.

"Hey, Scott, that's the wrong turning," Tommy told his suddenly. "You want to head towards Oxford."

"I thought Kensington was in London." There was a pause before Tommy laughed.

"Aye. London then."

**... ... **

**I'd just like to say a huge thank you to all you lovely reviewers who have been really great and thanks for your kind words on my take on the boys :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Virgil had to admit, his least favourite task on Two was cleaning the exhaust. Powered down and cool his Bird sat there, the waste from her fuel sending noxious wafts through the hanger. John never had that problem. Against the exhaust sludge Virgil was armed with a power hose.

Scott was still in England, there had been no rescue to call him back. He had promised Gordon he didn't think about it too much, in two days he really had tried to not remember that it was his brother at Creighton-Ward Mansion not him.

"Virgil, grandma wants you!" Gordon's voice yelled through the silo. "She's in the lounge!" Virgil sighed and turned the hose off. The ladder was wet as he climbed down carefully.

"Did she say why?" he asked the empty space where Gordon had been. The silo didn't answer in place of his brother. He hesitated before washing his hands and smartening up as best he could to not get a berating for being clean.

"Grandma?" The lounge was eerily quiet except for the faint click of knitting needles.

"Virgil, sit down." He did as he was told quickly, almost apprehensively.

"What's wrong, dear?" Ruth asked him after she finished her row of stitches. "You haven't been yourself lately." Virgil looked at her in alarm.

"There's nothing wrong, Grandma." Her look made him blush, staring right through his lie. "It's all getting a bit intense, we're all tired that's all."

"Virgil Grissom Tracy, you are

more than just tired." He opened his mouth to deny that, he wasn't going to go into details of why he wasn't exactly as chirpy as he could be, tiredness seemed a natural excuse. The alarm went off however, cutting off any further conversation.

"Stay safe, dear." Virgil smiled briefly before turning the Rescue Mode on on the desk for Jeff.

"Go ahead, Alan," called Jeff as he hurried in and sat down, Gordon, Brains and Tin-Tin on his heels.

"Viaduct collapse, Malaysia. Part of the bridge has caved in and a train is trapped over the ravine." Jeff turned to the empty sofa that was Scott's spot and paused.

"Tin-Tin, take Thunderbird One. Virgil, Thunderbird Two." Then he was leaning against the rocket painting and inside Two's silo. It was should be simple.

"Alan?" he asked once he was seated.

"The train's damaged, it can't change direction but it has managed to stop. The authorities can't evacuate because it's too dangerous to try and get anyone on the bridge with them." Virgil completed preflight on autopilot, working out the rescue plan from the images Alan was sending him. Tin-Tin was field commander, sort of, in the rare situations when they didn't have Scott or Alan.

"I'll come at it from the air," he told Alan. "The bridge is too weak to go over, but the train should hold up if I lift it off. Can you coordinate the unbuckling of carriages?"

"I've got Tin-Tin at the ready as a translator. Her ETA is twenty four minutes." Virgil would get in ten minutes later. He knew Alan had focused on South East Asia when it came to languages, Jeff had assigned them a continent and told them to learn the basics of the most common languages there. It might not be enough, if they were dealing with local dialects they would need Tin-Tin.

"They've detached the first carriage, Virgil," Tin-Tin told him over the radio. "It's half hanging of the bridge."

"How many civilians?"

"Twenty in the first carriage. Two hundred and six overall." The claw was lowered and clamped in place around the first carriage firmly.

"Tell them to hold on," Virgil told her as Two lifted the train carriage free from the tracks. Alan sent him the coordinates of a safe place to leave it and he set it down as gently as he could.

"One down, four to go," Alan told him. "You might want to get a move on, Virg. The rest of the bridge is coming down." He lifted the next carriage up and even in Two's cockpit he heard the bridge groan.

"Tell me how long the engineers think I have," he asked Tin-Tin.

"Ten minutes." He wasn't going to get the last carriage off in time, he still had two to go. The silence on the radio was strained, the only sound Virgil heard was that of his engines. The people couldn't leave the train, the electronics in the doors had sealed them in.

"Hurry up, Virg," Alan whispered after a moment, his voice muffled and tense. Virgil lowered the clamps for the last time, feeling them attach themselves to the train carriage.

Then the bridge gave way. The noise was colossal, a grinding screech that was followed by a series of crashes.

"Virgil!" Warning lights blinked around him, he hadn't finished taking hold of the carriage before it fell, the clamp closed on empty air as the train plummeted towards the ravine floor.

"No." He didn't swear, it was drilled into them by Jeff, he just sat there for half a second before hitting the magnetic grab buttons, trying desperately to catch the carriage with the long ropes that shot out from the underside of Two. He pulled his Bird down but he heard the crash.

"I've got it," he said quietly. He had caught the carriage, only after it had hit the side of the ravine. Slowly he pulled it up.

"Virg?" Tin-Tin asked quietly as the crumpled, smashed carriage was set down in the field. The radio stayed silent again until the emergency services reached the carriage. He watched as they pulled out the first victims. One walked out and he let go of the breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"Virgil, son, come home," Jeff said quietly. "There's nothing else to do." On autopilot he tapped in the coordinates for home, leaving before One did for once. His brain wasn't working it seemed, it never did when things went wrong. "Virgil, you did well."

"I- ETA thirty six minutes." He needed silence on the flight home, before reality crashed down.

"Okay, son." It had happened before, they had been too late, or they hadn't managed it. It never made it any easier.

Jeff met him as he left Two's silo, spending a moment longer at the controls after post-flight than he needed. For one moment Virgil stood up solid and stoic, then he let out his breath and sagged against the door. He wanted Scott to be there suddenly, to vent to his big brother. To hear that it was alright.

"There were ten survivors," Jeff told him.

"Can I call Scott?" Virgil didn't exactly push past his father, he just knew that he wouldn't be called for debrief just yet. He didn't even hear Jeff's reply, heading straight to the beach and the quiet it would give him.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter Three

Penelope's smile faded as her phone screen flashed.

"If you'll excuse me a moment, dear," she said to Anne, taking the portable phone into the anteroom. She knew it was bad news, she had seen the reports on the TV, Anne exclaiming at how terrible the accident was with no idea how invested Penelope was in the situation.

"Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward," she answered quietly. Jeff had no reason to call her unless he was trying to call Scott home, which wouldn't surprise her. Tommy wouldn't get his week with Scott, they had barely had twenty four hours, it being eight thirty in the morning.

"Uh- Hi, Penelope." Her heart jumped up into her mouth as Virgil's dull, choked voice came out over the line. "Is Scott there? I'm sorry to interrupt, only his phone is off." Which was unlike Scott but so much like Thomas. Of all the times when he could have decided to cut Scott off from the world, he had to pick the worst one possible.

"No, he's not. Virgil- I'm so sorry, darling. I saw the news. Are you alright?" There was a long pause before he replied in a voice more broken than she had ever heard come from him.

"Not really. It's okay, Penelope. I won't hassle you with it. Could you ask Scott to call me? Please?" She wanted to be there, to wrap her arms around him and tell him it wasn't his fault, that he had saved so many lives and he shouldn't blame himself.

"Virgil, you're no hassle at all. I will try and reach Scott for you." She paused, knowing she ought to say more. "You mustn't blame yourself for what happened, you did your best. You can't save everyone, you know that."

"Yeah, I know that," he said bitterly and Penelope was taken aback by the normally placid voice twisted like that. It was Scott's undertone when a painful subject came up, it was Alan's voice when complaining about always being left out except it was worse. Because Virgil didn't talk like that.

"Virgil? Please, darling you can tell me." Scott wouldn't answer soon enough, Thomas had no idea how important keeping him in contact with his family was so would have thought nothing of secretly turning his phone off for the day to have it to themselves. Doubtless Scott didn't even know it was off. She wanted Virgil to trust her, after Anderbad especially she felt she ought to be there for him.

"They're- they're Mom. All of them." She had sat down, wishing she was with him rather than him being all alone in his room or on the beach, crying by the tone of his voice. She couldn't see the link between the victims of the bridge collapse and Lucille Tracy however.

"Every person I'm too slow for, they're her. I always get Gordon out of the snow but I'm too slow and heavy to get to her." She paled. No one had told her of how Lucille died, just that it was an avalanche and Gordon was injured too. The boy didn't remember any of it, which apparently was a good thing. She hadn't thought Virgil would have been part of a rescue attempt though.

I "Virgil, darling you can't blame yourself for that. You were-" She worked it out. "Ten. You couldn't have done anything."

"Five seconds, if I'd gotten there faster, reacted quicker they'd be alive." Penelope was no longer sure if Virgil was talking about Lucille or the people on the bridge, or if he even made a distinction.

"What does your father have to say?" Surely Jeff had ways of helping the boys cope with their failed missions. That was how they viewed them, every mission where anyone died was a failure.

"We can't save everyone." Neither her words or Jeff's seemed to be helping.

"He's right. You boys do such amazing work, you saved so many people today. Think of them." She heard Virgil sigh on the other end. It wasn't fair that he had worked so hard and those people had still died. She couldn't imagine how it felt, to know you had been too late. She didn't want to ever know that feeling.

"I'll get a hold of Scott for you," she promised. "Do you want me to tell John to call?" John would probably have joined Anne in the breakfast room by then, no doubt they would be watching the news on the TV.

"Thanks. I'm sorry to-"

"Virgil. You will never have to apologise for calling me, and never for being upset. Darling, it's terrible and we're all right here." She made sure to say we, Virgil didn't need her to be anything other than a firm friend at that moment.

"Thanks." Her heart jumped as he put the phone down, tense with worry.

"John?" He was already up from the table, a frown etched onto his face. The screen was once again on the world news report. They were still making the area safe and Thunderbird One had only just taken off.

"Virgil asked you to call him." John nodded and passed her, heading out towards the gardens for privacy.

"Is everything okay?" asked Anne, looking out of place behind her plate of toast.

"John's brother's a tad upset. You don't know how to reach Thomas do you?"

"He's turned Scott's phone off, hasn't he? Idiot. He's always doing that. It stops Claire phoning him about patients on his days off. He probably thought it would keep John from calling to see where they are. Is it urgent?" Virgil had John but it was Scott he had wanted, reaching out for his oldest brother.

"Quite."

"Landline?" Anne suggested. "I'll call-"

"It's alright, dear. Finish your toast. I'll deal with them." She was going to have a firm word with Tommy about phones. Maybe he didn't want his secretary to bother him with patients but Scott couldn't be unreachable, however much they wanted to get away from their responsibilities.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

Scott shivered, pulling the covers up around his shoulders. The cold made him wake up fully all of a sudden. It was never cold in his room, he barely needed a summer duvet.

"Morning." It took him a second before he realised where exactly he was and smiled at Tommy.

"Morning," he replied. "England's cold." Tommy laughed and a jumper landed on his head.

"You wait until we get to Scotland." Scott kept his smile in place, despite the slight apprehension that surfaced. He pulled the jumped up around him and peeked out of his warm cocoon at Tommy who was filling up a coffee pot from the kettle on his desk.

"No tea?" Scott asked, jokingly.

"Tea is for garden parties, half time at the World Cup and when there's trouble. Coffee is for me trying to wake up to see a patient in three hours." Scott accepted his mug with a tiny smile. "Hot chocolate," Tommy continued. "Is for snow days and ovaltine is for comfort only and never admitted to in front of anyone."

"What's ovaltine?"

"Uh-" Tommy frowned, completely stumped. "It's- I don't know and I don't want to know what it's made of actually." Scott laughed quietly. He knew they had a few more hours before Tommy had to see patients and Scott would head west to Oxford to see the few old friends he still occasionally spoke to and satisfy any questions Jeff would have for him. He wasn't ready to face that volcano yet.

"Shower's through there. I won't be a sec," Tommy called as he headed downstairs. A few minutes Scott vaguely heard the phone ring as he finally braced the cold air. England was cold enough, he wasn't looking forward to Scotland.

"Scott!" Tommy came running back in, his usually bright face pale and worried.

"What's wrong?" The phone was thrust into his hand urgently. "Hello?" A thousand worst case scenarios flashed across his mind, almost dreading the voice on the other end. Yet his phone hadn't rung at all.

"Scott," Penelope said at once, her voice so eerily calm. "Thomas had turned your phone off last night. Virgil has been trying to reach you. I suggest you call him immediately." The pause she left was agonising. Scott had turned to face Tommy who was putting a bag that he recognised as the one left unopened on his bed at Penelope's house. "A rescue went wrong. He didn't reach everyone." Tommy opened his mouth to apologise, or something. With Virgil in bad shape Scott suddenly didn't have time for that, shutting the bathroom door between them gently.

"What's happened?" he asked quietly.

"There was a bridge in Malaysia that went down with a train on it. Virgil didn't get the last carriage off. John's just finished talking to him. It's alright, Scott, Thomas won't do it again." There was a hit of steep in Penelope's voice at that part.

"I'll call him. Thanks, Penelope." Scott sat down on the floor with his back against the radiator, rubbing his head. Guilt washed over him, that his little brother had been dealing with the pain a failed rescue brought and he hadn't even been there to answer the phone.

"Scott? Virgil said something about them being your mother and Gordon." He didn't even hide the sigh from her. It was never easy but Virgil took it hardest, dredging up memories of their mom and the snow.

"Okay. I'll call him. Oh, and Penelope? It's best if you keep that to yourself." Ten seconds later he was waiting for Virgil to pick up.

"I've never been so popular," his middle brother answered in a dull voice. "Hey, Scott." Virgil had had time to get angry, he realised, the frustration that was partly aimed inwards about to vent out over the phone. Scott was prepared to let it.

"Scotty- I know you're on shore leave but- I get it. Don't-" When Virgil lost the ability to talk, things were dire.

"Go ahead and yell at me, Virg. I didn't know it had been turned off but I should have checked."

"You've missed your moment now, man. Penelope and John kinda took the brunt." At least John knew what to say to Virgil.

"Do you want us to come home?" He had come back before, from his first shore leave because Virgil had missed one boy in a landslip, just one life he could easily have saved but human error caused him to fail to see the blip on his screen. Scott was prepared to do so again.

"John's already asked that. It's okay. They're gone, you being here won't change that."

"Did you tell John about Mom?" Even Jeff didn't know exactly what had happened in the avalanche, Virgil had only told Scott and now apparently Penelope too.

"No." It would kill Gordon to know he was alive at the expense of their mother, as it had almost killed Virgil to know he had made that choice. It didn't go any further than the three of them.

"What do I do, Scott?" It was his five year old brother calling him from Scout camp, asking what to do after losing his scarf, it was a frozen twelve year old asking what he was meant to do to make things better when only one Tracy had been pulled from the snow.

"When I get back, we're going to sit down with Brains and Tin-Tin and work out how to make Two faster, okay? If needs be we lose some of the extra machinery. As long as you get there quicker. We made a compromise before, machinery or speed now we just need to change the balance slightly." Jeff wouldn't be pleased but Scott would press for it if needed. Virgil had to get there sooner, even if it meant getting rid of some of Two's extra features.

"Really? You think we could make her go faster?"

"We'll try, Virg. We've developed more tech now than two years ago. We can try."

"Thanks." He heard Virgil sigh quietly. "You having a good time?" The sum of human misery was held in that sentence and Scott wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to lie or make Virgil feel as if he had spoiled anything.

"Europe sure is cold, I'm not used to actually needing a duvet instead of just having one for the sake of it."

"Have fun, Scotty."

"I'll speak to you tomorrow," he promised. Virgil agreed and hung up.

It was a long moment before Scott got up and opened the door to face Tommy.

"I'm sorry, Scott-" Tommy turned away, squirming slightly uncomfortably.

"Forget it," he answered with a little more heat than he planned. Tommy was silent for a second as Scott sat back down on the bed.

"Is Virgil okay?" It was so quiet and sincere and untinged with any fear of retaliation that Scott had to soften up.

"He will be. Something went wrong, I'm just glad he managed to speak to Penelope and John in the meantime." It was then that Scott noticed the bag lying next to him.

"Guess I took too much upon myself."

"It's okay, Tommy. I get why you did it. Just don't do it again?" Scott began pulling the clean clothes he had packed out.

"Eggs?" It was an awkward, tentative question.

"Sounds great." Scott had crossed the room and ruffled the light hair that Tommy had yet to brush. Virgil would be alright, Penelope had seen to that somehow and Scott couldn't stay angry with anyone other than himself for long. The moment Tommy left, however, he turned his phone on and sighed at the number of missed calls. At least Jeff hadn't tried.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Virgil hadn't slept. The sound of the air conditioning morphed into Two's engines and he would sit up, huddled against his headboard as he tried not to cry. Between them, Penelope, John and Scott had managed to calm him down and momentarily make him feel better but in the darkness alone their words didn't matter. Jeff had tried to talk but Virgil just walked away. He had failed International Rescue just as he had failed Jeff in the Rockies.

There was a knock on the door around three in the morning, breaking Virgil out of the trance-like stupor he had fallen into.

"Virgil?" He really shouldn't have been surprised when Gordon's head popped around the door. Jeff wouldn't have come in at that time of night and there was no one else on base. "I have cookies."

"Gordon, it's three am."

"So?" The cookies were put down on the bed, Virgil was amazed Gordon had remembered to use a plate and then the bouncy twenty four year old joined them. Gordon was the last person he wanted to see after a disaster, the one person he actively didn't want to talk to.

"We haven't had a midnight feast in ages," Gordon complained. "Scott's not here to catch us." It would be just like when Scott was away on a cadet camp or something, leaving John in charge. John would never tell on them, ignoring the cookie crumbs in Virgil's bed when he came to wake them the next morning. He had usually ignored the redhead nestled there too. Virgil could see the excitement radiating off of his little brother.

"Do you have double chocolate?" he asked, giving in and pulling his feet up so that Gordon had more room.

"Duh." One was handed to him. There was a fear that filled the momentary silence that Gordon would try to talk about the mission and Virgil couldn't do that, he couldn't tell him.

"So we should be getting a call in about four hours when Alan gets up..." In the darkness Virgil could see Gordon grinning. "And showers to find that I-"

"But he put dye in your shampoo," Virgil said quickly.

"Virg, seriously? You think I didn't know? I just swapped them back. Alan's going to be the one with blue hair not me. Besides, it takes a lot to dye my hair, his goes green if you wave a leaf near it." Virgil gave the obligatory disapproving eyebrow that was completely lost in the darkness. Out of habit they never put the lights on, even if Jeff and Scott had no chance of finding them.

"But that's so overdone, isn't it?" Gordon laughed.

"It was Alan's idea, not mine." Jeff wouldn't take that as an excuse but Alan would hardly be able to complain since doing so would involve admitting that he had tried to do the same to Gordon. Virgil took another cookie.

"You'll vouch for me anyway, won't you?" Virgil wouldn't turn the brother who bought him cookies into Jeff.

"I got a call today," Gordon said brightly all of a sudden. "From Kit." Kit, his fellow aquanaut who had been with him from university onwards, right up until the hydrofoil crash.

"How's she doing?"

"She's going down for a sub-arctic mission in a month's time, a year under the ice studying currents. That and I think she jilted her fiancé at the altar." It sounded like Kit somehow.

"Dad won't let you go ashore to see her before that," Virgil pointed out.

"Yeah, I know. Hence the call. Dad's sending me to Tokyo in few months to oversee the designs for the submarines they've commissioned. I've said I'll check her dog's still alive." Gordon's voice was muffled slightly as he tried to talk and eat cookie at the same time.

"Why can't we get a dog? We had Buzz, when we were little," muttered Virgil. "He was huge."

"I've seen a photo of him. He wasn't that big, Virg, you were just tiny." The springer spaniel had been the fifth Tracy boy, until he died a few months before Alan was born. Virgil remembered his Mom complaining that Buzz made less mess than Alan did.

"Dad'll come up with some sensible idea why we can't have a dog. You know, it'll get stuck in a hanger or the sea or something. I vote we just bring one here and then he's stuck with it. Alan will agree."

"Get John in and we'll have a case to make with Scott." Virgil wasn't prepared for Gordon pulling out his phone immediately. "Dude, it's three am."

"Not in England. John? Hi. Do you want a dog?" Virgil split that last cookie in half and listened. "No, we don't have one but if we did- what's that supposed to mean?" Gordon's face darkened into a scowl as he hung up. "Why does he always ruin my plans with sense? He says no and he's about to give me a lecture so I'm not to call him back." Gordon's midnight ideas rarely resulted in anything, except occasionally them ending up on the roof with John or having walked to the log cabin in the woods on the other side of their home town back in Kansas. They would be filled with enthusiasm for an hour or so then fall asleep and not remember their planned rebellions come morning.

"Budge up." Virgil did as he was told, moving the plate quickly before Gordon sat on it. "Your air-con's ridiculously loud in here." Virgil made a non-committal noise in reply and absently reached for another cookie before remembering there weren't any.

"I'd hate to disappoint," murmured Gordon and there was a loud rustle as he pulled a full packet of Marylands out of his pocket. "We'll have to settle for these." When homemade cookies ran dry, they had to resort to packets and imported luxuries. In the long gaps between supply trips chocolate because as closely guarded as any island secret.

… …

**A huge thank you to all my lovely reviewers, you guys are amazing!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

It was with mild anticipation that Scott got into the car next to Tommy, Anne having won, or lost depending on your point of view, the lots for driving. Penelope had already left for a charity board meeting, waving goodbye to the four of them over breakfast. The butterflies in his stomach had prevented him from really eating anything, picking at his toast until the others were ready. It was more than a faint apprehension, it threatened to solidify into a deep rooted fear.

Scott told himself it was stupid, yet the fear of repetition remained. Back in High School, just weeks before he left for university in England, he had almost told Jeff, the whole thing planned out to introduce Karl and await the explosions at a safe distance. Then Scott hadn't worried too much about the reaction, before his father has become his commanding officer. Except that things hadn't gone to plan and he had decided it was best to keep quiet, rather than disappoint his father. He hadn't spoken to Karl since then, it had been made quite clear to him never to even try.

"We could play I spy," Tommy suggested after a while of Anne's questionable music and patchwork fields out the window. England was quaint, Scott had always thought but, hardly exciting.

"Seriously?" John turned around from the front passenger seat where he was sitting shotgun and gave Scott an incredulous look as if to certify that he was indeed dating someone who suggested I spy. Scott gave a weary nod.

"I spy," he began.

"Who said you could start, Scotty?" John whined.

"Primogeniture. I spy, something beginning with H." John scowled and turned to look out the window.

"This is childish," he mumbled.

"Then guess what it is," said Anne. "Hedge."

"Nope."

"House," ventured Tommy.

"Nope."

"Heron?"

"Annie, where have you seen a heron in the last hour?" Tommy asked her. "Hedgehog."

"And you've seen a hedgehog?" she shot back.

"It's not a hedgehog," Scott told them, smirking. Really, Virgil was the king of I spy on long journeys, having an artist's eye he always saw silly little details that the others missed. Scott had called him again the days after the rescue, just to check up on him and hear the confirmation that his little brother didn't need him to go home.

"Hole." John began to laugh at the silence emanating from Scott. Anne promptly drove through another pothole to prove his point. "My turn. I spy something beginning with P."

"Possum," Scott said automatically. If it wasn't some random star, which John had been disallowed to do since ages five, it was going to be wildlife that could only be seen for a split second.

"Possum?" Tommy laughed at him. "We don't have possums here. Didn't you ever go outside when you were at Oxford?"

"I thought they were hiding!" In the back of the car the fifth seat was almost non-existent, more of a token seat belt than a realistic chance of inserting another person. Scott became increasingly aware of that fact as Anne's continuous guesses became fainter in the front. Tommy smirked, opening his mouth as if to say something quietly.

"Pukingly sweet," Anne said somewhat more forcefully than needed to get through to the couple in the back.

"Thank you, Annie dearest." Tommy broke eye contact and pulled a face at her through the mirror.

"Sorry, that was a good one but no." John was grinning over his shoulder at them.

"Pigeon," said Tommy and got a nod. His beam was endearingly childlike. "Okay- um. I spy, something beginning with- N." There was complete silence in the car for a moment as they all tried to think of something.

"Nokia?" Anne asked, gesturing to the phone that was plugged into the car.

"Nope."

"Nougat?" Scott asked, looking around belatedly to see if there was any. The car was disappointingly lacking in confectionary. He planned to fix that at the next gas station.

"Scott, just saying random words like possum and nougat doesn't work." He wondered absently if they had all had too much sugar in their coffee that morning or something, the mental age of an accomplished author, a pilot and two doctors of various sciences had degenerated rapidly.

"Numpty," Anne muttered as she overtook the painstakingly slow Ford in front of them.

"Anne's got it." The Tracy's gave out cries of protest.

"That's not even a word," complained Scott.

"It is. They're the people Anne gets stuck behind and I overtake." Scott was unconvinced but after failing on the possum front he let it slide and decided to keep any future games of I spy to a group comprised of only one nationality, since Scottish didn't seem to be compatible with American.

"There are some jammy dodgers in the glove compartment, John," said Anne. "If we feed them it might keep them occupied for a minute or two."

"Scott, remember the road trip to Florida? Why didn't we have these?" Scott shrugged as he ate the whole biscuit in one go. Tommy completed some sort of ritual involving biting the top biscuit off before dealing with the second one.

"See, we never had a road trip. There's nowhere far enough away to merit one," complained Tommy. "Unless you go around the coast but it keeps falling away periodically."

"Well, we're now in walking distance of everything, so you've got more of a chance than we do," John called back. Leaning against the back of his seat with his knee firmly in John's lower vertebrae, Scott grinned. It was so easy and comfortable between the four of them that he would have been fine if that was the whole world. Except for the Ford driver who had the speed of a meandering OAP going out for a country stroll. Tommy flicked the biscuit wrapper at his shoulder.

"I spy," Anne began loudly after a good quarter of an hour the Kaiser Chiefs, and they all groaned.

**Sorry it's been kind of slow, a string of mocks came up and interrupted my plot bunny.**


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